‘It looks that way.’

‘And yet … I can’t help thinking I should walk away from this one. Something’s pecking at me and I’ve not been sleeping. Would you help to put my mind at ease?’

‘You’re asking the wrong person,’ she said. ‘All I am’s a go-between. That’s it.’ Her heart was clapping now. Her fingers had gone sweaty on the phone. The waistband on her skirt was digging at her kidneys.

The woman took a breath. ‘Well, tell me this, at least. How come a girl like you winds up involved with Mr Duggan?’

‘I dunno,’ she answered. ‘How’d you get involved with him?’

The woman made a throaty noise. ‘With both eyes open. And I still don’t like it.’ There was a pause then, while some other thought was being pondered. ‘I’ve known a few rats down the years, Joyce, I can tell you that for free. And Mr Duggan, well, he’s close to being the rattiest of all. He’s never been too popular and now he’s made an awful lot more enemies. I wanted you to know that.’

She wasn’t sure what she was meant to say. Did they expect her to defend him? ‘Sorry, I don’t understand this conversation.’

‘I’ll be clearer, then.’ The woman let a moment pass. ‘Those diamonds that you’ve brought along – they’re stolen. Which is not the problem, really. No, the trouble is from where. From whom. I think it’s fair to say that there are certain jewellers you don’t touch in certain parts of London. There are people you don’t want to pit yourself against, unless you want your tongue cut out and posted to your grandma for a lark. But that won’t stop the likes of Mr Duggan. Why? It’s like I told you, Mr Duggan is a rat, and rats are always desperate. They’ll go anywhere for what they want, do anything eventually. And if you let them in your door just once, they’ll keep on coming back and coming back, until you’re just as desperate as they are. So, you see, I’ve got a problem to consider. Which is why I hoped to speak to you.’

‘I don’t know anything,’ she said. ‘I’m just a go-between.’

‘Yes, so you keep insisting.’

‘Well, it’s true.’

‘But you can understand my situation.’

‘I suppose.’

‘So, tell me this: are you a rat like him, Joyce?’

‘No.’

‘Don’t rats associate with other rats? I thought they did.’

‘Not me.’

‘You’re going to have to prove that, I’m afraid.’ Next time the woman spoke, she sounded closer, louder. ‘Joyce, I won’t be paying you a penny for those diamonds. I’ve decided to dispense with Mr Duggan altogether. It’ll keep the waters peaceful. Do you understand me now?’

Here they came again, the shudders.

‘Speak up, dear. I need an answer.’

She couldn’t get the words out. It was only when the Welshman reached to take the phone back that she managed something in a hurry. ‘Yeah, OK, I think I get it. Where does that leave me?’